


What Cannot Be Said Will Be Wept

by PenUltimate



Category: Jessica Jones (TV), Marvel
Genre: (because consent while under the influence is not consent imo), (none of the non-con/dub-con is between Jess and Trish), (sort of), (vague mentions of Trish/OCs), Alcohol Abuse, Angst, Drug Abuse, Dubious Consent, F/F, Hurt/Comfort, SUBSTANCE ABUSE LIKE WOAH, but a very happy ending, mentions of possible non-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-01
Updated: 2016-11-05
Packaged: 2018-08-19 00:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8181068
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenUltimate/pseuds/PenUltimate
Summary: It's almost ironic, the way alcohol slips into Jessica’s life. Sometimes we have to rescue ourselves.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags. ^  
> Look after yourselves. <3

It's almost ironic, the way alcohol slips into Jessica’s life.

At first she just drinks for fun, on nights out on the town, or at parties. It stays that way for a while.

But then Trish's pill popping starts to become a problem.

Trish is only occasionally a mess, and Jessica is just pushing off guys who are trying to take advantage of an already drugged up girl, and searching for her among rooms full of clouds of THC-filled smoke sometimes.

That's mainly just when they're out, though, and Trish is put together and sober the rest of the time. She’s responsible with her irresponsibility.

Trish doesn't use to have fun, she uses to cope and to forget, if only for a little while.

Then _It's Patsy_ gets cancelled, and that's when things start to get really scary.

Dorothy is furious of course, and after screaming matches that go on for several days, Jessica throws an antique vase at the wall, shattering it to pieces. Dorothy stalks off, and the next day starts lining up an endless stream of auditions that leave Trish drained and distant.

Jessica sits with Trish while she empties the contents of her stomach again and again (making her momma proud, probably, but Dorothy doesn't know. Jessica hates her for not noticing that her own daughter is falling apart, but also hopes that she never notices at all). When Trish collapses or just can't walk on her own, Jessica carries her home.

Trish starts attending the auditions and going to school all jacked up or doped up, until Jessica can't see the steely iron will in her that she used to see. All that's left is sickness and craving.

So, she starts trying to get rid of Trish's stashes. She's always been good at finding things, after all, and she spends every moment of her free time either looking after Trish or scouring the house to find drugs so that she can dump them.

Jessica starts to get so frightened by Trish's behaviour that she stops drinking entirely. What if Trish needs her and she's not there? What if she's too drunk to notice Trish pressing a pill between her lips?

_“Please, please, I need it, let me have it! Just give it to me!”_

She follows Trish everywhere, can't leave her go anywhere alone anymore in case she gets her hands on something from someone. Even when she's there, it's so difficult to try and convince Trish not to buy something, or take something, to pry rolled hundred dollar bills and needles and packets and rollies away from her.

But Jessica can't be there every second of every day, and every time Trish slips away, it feels like she really is slipping away – out of Jessica's reach, away from where she can help her, can save her.

And every time she finds Trish passed out on the cold tiles of a bathroom floor or in a stranger's bed, her heart breaks a little more – until it no longer cracks but instead simply sighs, weary from the weight of her best friend's body.

Finally, she can't handle it anymore, can't listen to Trish's screams, begging for a fix and telling Jessica that she hates her from keeping it from her.

She starts drinking again. Just a little. Enough to take the edge off of the pain. Nights spent listening to Trish's shallow breathing to make sure that it doesn't stop are easier with a bottle of whiskey on hand. Sleep comes easier with a nightcap, and when she wakes up from another nightmare of finding Trish's cold body and lifeless eyes in the gutter somewhere, too late, a couple of shots of vodka go a long way towards washing the images back, into the dark corners of her mind.

It goes on for months, until summer is coming to an end and their senior year is about to start.

It’s then that she finds that Trish has fallen into the pool in their backyard – she’s so high she’s forgotten how to swim.

That’s the final straw.

So, Jessica drags her out, ever grateful for her strength, even though it will never be worth the price she paid for it.

It takes her a while to make sure that Trish hasn’t swallowed too much water. Then she dries them both off, gets them both dressed in fresh clothes – a slight challenge, because Trish is just present enough to mildly protest about Jessica’s fashion choices – before getting them both into Dorothy’s car.

Trish is mostly silent aside from some unintelligible muttering, not questioning why they’re driving or where they’re going. A small mercy.

When they reach their destination, Jessica has to shake her shoulder a little to get her attention.

Trish looks slightly more focused when she turns her bleary gaze away from the window. It’ll have to do. Jessica launches into the course of action that’s been simmering at the back of her mind for weeks now. Her resolve to do something was formless for so long, but she can finally see its shape now.

Enough is enough. Neither of them can go on like this – they’ll fall apart.

“This is a rehabilitation centre. We're gonna go and check you in,” Jessica explains, gesturing to the bland brown brick building that they're parked outside of.

As she reaches to undo her seatbelt, Trish grabs at her hands, pulling them away. Jessica lets her. She always lets her.

“What? Why did you bring me here? You know I can't–”

“You can and you will,” Jessica interrupts.

Trish stares at her, at a loss for words, but her eyes are the clearest that Jessica has seen them in days and that's as close as she thinks she's going to get to Trish being in a sound state of mind in order to make this decision.

“I can't save you this time, Trish. I'm sorry. I'm not– I don't know _how._ ” Jessica’s voice shakes and Trish's hands tighten their grip around hers. She’s never seen Jessica like this, never seen her look so _afraid_ before. “I can't punch anything or throw anything or jump anywhere to fix this. My strength won't do a damn thing. But yours can. I need you to help yourself this time, okay? Let other people help you, people who know what the hell they're doing, because I'm not the right person for this.”

Jessica hardly ever cries, but her eyes are taking on a suspicious shine and Trish can't swallow past the lump in her throat. 

“It is killing me to watch you dying, Trish. _Please_.”

Trish tears her gaze away from Jessica's face and runs her eyes along the sign above the doorway.

_Rowan Tree Addiction Treatment and Rehabilitation Centre_

When she turns back, she sees that there are purple-grey marks of exhaustion under Jessica's eyes. Jessica has become almost as skinny as her, her cheekbones straining against the pale skin sheathing them.

 _“But who will take care of you?”_ she wants to ask.

Which is ridiculous, because Trish clearly isn't in a state to be taking care of anybody.

She could be, though. If she got better. Jessica wouldn't be wasting away trying to rescue a girl who was drowning in her own swimming pool because she'd tried too hard to drown out her own misery.

“Okay.”

Her voice comes out as a croaky whisper, voice weak and battered.

“Okay?” Jessica ascertains, just to make sure, turning her hands in Trish's to wind their fingers together.

“Okay,” Trish repeats, a little louder this time.

They get out of the car and take a few steps towards the clinic, but Jessica pauses and twists around to face Trish.

“I can't visit you, but I'll send you, like, letters or something,” Jessica offers.

“No, you won't,” Trish sighs, because she knows Jessica is terrible at that sort of thing and the letters would probably consist of about three words, but there is a small smile playing at the edge of her lips that says she forgives her for it.

“No, I won't,” Jessica admits. “But I'll be here when you get out, and just. If there's anything I can do – if anything bad happens – just call me, alright? I will always, _always_ come if you need me to.”

“I know,” Trish says, slipping her hand into Jessica's again, and tugging her a little until she follows along.

They walk to the front of the clinic, side by side, their hands intertwined.

Jessica can bring her to the door, but she can’t make her go inside.

It's time for Trish to rescue herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes Trish jokingly calls this their “anniversary”, because on this day five years ago, she kissed Jessica for the first time.

She had just left rehab and she was so happy to see her best friend for the first time in months, she hadn’t even thought twice before wrapping her arms around and pressing a kiss to her chapped and bitten lips.

Of course, Jessica won’t hear of any sort of “celebration”, because she thinks Trish is being ridiculous. However, Trish can usually coax her into something small – like this candlelit, home-cooked dinner they’re having. Cooked by Trish obviously, because Jessica could find a way to burn water.

“You seem nervous,” Trish remarks, a furrow flickering across her brow. It’s just the two of them, sitting in their apartment (admittedly, paid for mostly by Trish, but she insists that it’s _theirs_ ), so she doesn’t understand why her girlfriend looks like she wants to sink under the table and hide.

Wordlessly, Jessica slides an oblong black box across the table.

Trish stares at it, then stares at Jessica, her expression wavering between confused and pleased. Hesitantly, she reaches over and opens it.

It's a simple silver chain, with “ _Trish_ ” engraved on a rectangular plate in the middle.

“Might help with stopping people from calling you Patsy,” Jessica suggests, shrugging.

Trish smiles, delighted at the gift.

“This is lovely,” she murmurs, sliding the necklace out and into her own hands. Upon feeling a slight roughness on the surface of the back of the name plate, she turns it over.

 _“ _ὄ_ πτιασ ἄμμε”, _it says.

“What does it mean?” Trish asks, tracing the unfamiliar letters. 

Jessica licks her lips, drumming her fingers against the table.

“It's just a quote, from a poem,” she replies.

“But what does it say?” Trish prods, laughter clear as crystal in her voice, the tinkling kind that she uses in public instead replaced by a teasing lilt in the privacy of their shared kitchen – in their home.

Jessica looks down at the table, digits still dancing across wood.

“It says ' _you burn me_ ',” she mutters, trying – and failing – to appear nonchalant.

After a few moments of watching Jessica fidget, Trish decides not to make a big deal of it, since Jessica's eyes are begging her not to. She'll just Google it later.

Without another word she hands the necklace to Jessica and turns in her chair, holding up her hair to give Jessica access to her neck.

Her eyelids flutter at the feel of the cold metal and Jessica's cool fingers sliding across her skin.

With the jewelry firmly in place, Trish turns back to face the dark haired beauty opposite her.

“Thank you,” she utters, touching Jessica's hand lightly.

“No problem,” Jessica says, voice slightly hoarse. She clears her throat before switching the topic to one she is more comfortable with: work.

Trish doesn't resist the change in conversation, but a small smile still lingers at the corners of her lips for the rest of the evening.

It lasts all the way through the soft murmurs of their meal together, and through to the end of the night – even against the feel of her girlfriend’s lips pressed to hers – until she falls asleep, safe in Jessica’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is pretty short, but it's all that came to me.   
> I'm thinking of doing a HS AU for them - would that be a good idea?

**Author's Note:**

> First chapter is more Trish & Jess. Second chap will be more Trish/Jess. =)  
> The fic title is from Sappho. ;)


End file.
